


Ever Dream

by L6vy



Series: Songfics [3]
Category: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:33:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24789289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/L6vy/pseuds/L6vy
Summary: Martín has disappeared. Mirko starts looking for him, and after a while, he finds him outside at the beach, looking at the ocean. But it doesn't feel like he actually found him. Martín is lost deep inside his head, he left him and went to a place where he can't follow.Inspired by the song "Ever Dream" by Nightwish.
Relationships: Helsinki | Mirko Dragic/Palermo | Martín Berrote
Series: Songfics [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1703104
Comments: 6
Kudos: 33





	Ever Dream

_Ever felt away with me?  
Just once that all I need  
Entwined in finding you one day  
  
_

_Ever felt away without me?_  
_My love, it lies so deep_  
_Ever dream of me?_

\- Ever Dream (Nightwish)

Mirko found Martín standing in the sand, a lonely figure at the beach. Water was touching his feet in gentle waves, the constant movement a contrast to his motionless form, making him look like a statue. He had his back turned away from him as he was staring out at the ocean.

The sun was slowly disappearing into the water in front of them, coloring the world in tones of red and orange. Mirko found that it made Martín look like he was glowing, burning, a star releasing its last rays of light before turning dark.

For a moment, he feared he would step further into the sea, letting himself be swallowed by the dark water. It would be so quick, so easy. Martín would be gone as if he had never existed, drowned by insatiable waves, claimed by the water.

Mirko approached him from behind and wrapped his arms around him, as if communicating with the ocean. Not this one. You can’t claim this one.

“Hello, _mi sol_ ,” he said, pressing his face into Martín’s hair. He could make out a hint of his shampoo, the smell contrasting with the salty air around them. Martín didn’t acknowledge his presence in any way, his body not moving at all.

Mirko wondered where he had gone. Probably to a place deep inside his head, a place that he didn’t know, wasn’t allowed to know. He knew it was dark there, dark and cold, so different from the warmth he felt as rays of sun touched his skin.

He imagined it to be similar to what he felt when he thought about Oslo or Nairobi. Sometimes it was as if he was being pulled under water, an invisible force dragging him into deep black waters. It made him feel as if he couldn’t breathe, gasping for air, unable to free himself from the merciless grip. It was as if he was drowning, just that it never actually happened.

Mirko wished Martín could show him what it was like for him. If only one day he would share the pain, if only he would open up to him and make him understand. He wanted to feel what Martín felt, be allowed to enter his head. But he wouldn’t push him. He could be patient. He would wait.

He gently ran his hands over Martín’s stomach, over his chest. A sharp inhale of breath told him he was actually there, aware of his presence.

He often thought that he could identify Martín’s emotions by feeling his temperature. Although he was standing in the sun, Martín was cold right now. Mirko hoped his body could warm him up a little, melt the ice that was spreading inside him.

One of his hands wandered up to touch his face, gently tracing the scars there. He wondered if they were still painful, if they still hurt. Did they ache like the scars inside his heart? Could they hurt like that?

After years of fighting in war, Mirko had scars on his body too. The pain had gone away at some point, but the scarring would always stay there. A reminder of other times. More difficult times. Would it be like that with the pain he felt about Oslo, about Nairobi, as well? Would it sting less one day, becoming a quiet noise in the background? Did Martín feel the same?

He wanted to heal those scars, he thought, as he brushed his fingers along another one on Martín’s face. But healing scars was just as impossible as erasing the past. They would never go away. Would always be there, be part of the person he was, part of his very being.

He could feel a tear rolling down Martín’s cheek. Mirko knew he should be grateful that he wasn’t in one of those moods where he kicked and scratched and threw insults at him. But he still felt his chest tighten as a sob shook Martín’s body, immediately holding him closer.

He wanted to take him away from that place. Grab him under the arms and pull him out of his head, bring him somewhere that wasn’t as cold, as lonely. But all he could do was stand here, with him, the soft sand under their feet, water washing around them as the last rays of sunshine disappeared into the ocean.

Martín’s sobbing became louder, tears now running down his face. His body shook with each inhale, unable to contain all the emotions, keep them to himself. Mirko stroked one hand up and down his front, while the other one was still on his face, his thumb brushing over his wet cheek.

“Martín,” he whispered into his ear, trying to bring him back. Trying to pull him out of the waters he was drowning in. The sea they were standing in was only touching their feet, but the sea inside Martín’s head was so much more dangerous, so much deeper, wilder, unpredictable.

 _Don’t drown in there_ , Mirko wanted to tell him.

 _I’m waiting here for you_.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed.  
> Let me know what you thought :)


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